


Second Chances

by Vexed_Wench



Series: Silver Plates and Copper Spoons [1]
Category: Stargate SG-1, Supernatural
Genre: Alternate Universe, Bad Parent John Winchester, Crossover, Gen, Gift Fic, Hurt Dean Winchester, M/M, Protective Jack O'Neill, Slow Build, Slow Romance
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-01-06
Updated: 2018-01-06
Packaged: 2019-03-01 01:42:05
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,234
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13284270
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Vexed_Wench/pseuds/Vexed_Wench
Summary: Jack O'Neill was settled into his retirement. His second try at being retired when he met the new guy squatting across the hall and his life would never be the same.





	Second Chances

**Author's Note:**

  * For [spiralicious](https://archiveofourown.org/users/spiralicious/gifts).



Jack briefly thought about ordering a pizza, but a quick look outside of the kitchen window made him change his mind. The light dusting of snow that had been falling all afternoon had turned into a raging snowstorm. He couldn't ask a delivery guy to drive in that. He may have been hungry enough to want to a hot meal, but he wasn't a big enough asshole to make someone bring it to him. He reminded himself that he should've made himself a to-go plate, before he left work.  
   
He stood in front of his open freezer wondering which was colder, the temperature in his freezer or the temperature outside. He was willing to bet it was damn close. He wished he'd made time to stop at the grocery store the night before. He would've settled for a couple of TV dinners.  
   
He smiled triumphantly when he spotted a box of instant oatmeal on top of the 'fridge. He'd bought it when they first started talking about the massive snowstorm that was heading their way. A few moments later, he was sitting in his recliner, holding a steaming mug of brown sugar oatmeal. It was hot and he wouldn't go to bed hungry.  
   
"I guess this is it."  
   
Jack's quiet evening was interrupted when heard someone speaking in the hallway. He was surprised to hear anyone out there. He lived on the second floor and there was only one other unit on it.  He knew that the one across the hall was nowhere near ready to be lived in. He doubted even squatters would be happy there. He had seen how bad the place looked when Oscar had been dragged out in cuffs. He hadn't even wanted to sleep in his own place for fear of it blowing up during the night.  He had to remind himself that the building had a better chance of exploding while Oscar and his buddies were still there. It didn't help keep his nightmares at bay.     
   
"I don't know what your problem has been lately," Jack heard the same guy complain. He thought he heard someone else mumble in reply. He wished he could've made out what the other person had said.  
   
Curiosity got the better of him and he placed his mug on the coffee table, before heading out into the hall.  
   
"I know this isn't the best option, but I have to be there. I can't let you come with me. I have to be out of here, before the storm gets worse. You heard the weather report; they’re predicting a hell of a lot of snow overnight. I left you some cash and what I could from the emergency rations and first aid kit."  
   
Jack couldn't believe his ears. How could anyone leave someone in this place? At least they knew what the weather was going to be like and left them what they could. Sadly, it didn't sound like a hell of a lot to Jack.  
   
That question was answered when he opened his door and saw the man walking down the hall. He didn't see much of him, but he looked about Jack's age. He walked down the hall with a stride like he owned the place.  
   
Curiosity got the better of him, so Jack crossed the hall to meet who was being left behind. The kid was the sorriest mess he'd seen in a while. It looked like he went ten rounds with a meat grinder and lost. Jack was no doctor, but he would bet his last pack of oatmeal that the kid should be in a hospital.  
   
"Hey," Jack called out, while cautiously stepping into the room. He didn't want to startle the kid.  Jack doubted he was as startled as he was when the kid pulled a gun on him.  
   
"Whoa, I'm only here to check on you. I heard the yelling and wanted to make sure you were alright," Jack tried to reason with him.  
   
"Why?"  
   
The kid sounded tired. Jack couldn't believe someone would be willing to leave him alone. It didn't sound like the other guy was going to make a quick food run. It sounded pretty final to him.  
   
"Is it safe to come in?" Jack tried to shake the thought that he could still be shot for offering help.  
   
"Whatever..." The kid lay back on the couch.  
   
Jack was happy that he no longer saw the gun. "What happened to you?" He tried to keep his voice soft, not wanting to startle the kid.  
   
"My night out didn't go as planned. Their side thought they were right. They weren't, but they did have more people on their side than I realized."  
   
Jack doubted that was all there was to that story.  "I hate when that happens," Jack said as he edged his way closer to the couch. He hoped that the kid wasn't completely full of shit and the guy that walked out hadn't been the one to beat him.  
   
The kid grunted and Jack couldn't tell if it was a “shut up you're annoying” or an “I'm in pain” grunt.  
   
"So, the guy that left...?" Jack prodded, not knowing how to ask who he was and if he was responsible for the kid's condition.  
   
"That was my dad. He was called away for work," the kid explained.  
   
"It's freezing in here. I guess you couldn't wait for the power to be turned on. Do you at least have something warm in your bag?" Jack asked him. He was surprised the kid wasn't frozen stiff already. His jeans were so old and frayed that Jack wondered how they stayed together. He had a black t-shirt with a thin flannel shirt over it. He was not dressed warmly enough to spend the night in there.  
   
"'m fine," was the mumbled response.  
   
Enough was enough... Jack thought as he got off the couch to walk around the apartment. There was a duffle bag by the kid's feet and not much else that Jack could see. He decided to look around to see what else he had. Sadly, the kitchen was empty and the bathroom didn't even have a roll of toilet paper in it. Jack liked the kid's dad less with each room he searched. How could anyone leave their own kid in this condition? he bitterly thought.  
   
"That's it, grab your bag and follow me!" Jack barked. He may no longer be in the Air Force, but he could still give orders like he was. He was still surprised to see the kid damn near snap to attention, as he grabbed his lone bag and follow him home. It made him even more curious about the kid. Jack wondered why he wasn't putting up more of a fight. It was only moments ago he'd been worried the kid was going to shoot him. He made no sense to Jack.  
   
"Have a seat, couch or recliner take your pick. I have an extra blanket and I'll grab you a pillow." Jack rushed off towards his room to grab what he needed.  
   
"Did you want a shower? I'm assuming you have a change of clothes in your bag," Jack asked him as he walked back into the living room. The kid was already half asleep on the couch. He looked beat in more ways than one.  
   
Jack wasn't surprised to find the kid already stretched out on the couch. "I don't even know your name." Jack wondered once again why he was getting involved.  
   
A single green eye cracked open and he said one word, "Dean."  
   
At least Jack could quit could quit calling him _kid_ in his head. "Nice to meet you. I'm Jack." He had to admit that he hadn't thought his plan out. He just saw someone that needed help and his instincts took over. It'd been a long time since he'd done that. "You want to talk about it?"  
   
"It?" Dean asked with a chuckle that held little good feeling.  
   
Jack merely shrugged and made a gesture with his hand that he hoped said “what happened to you. Who was the guy that walked out on you? Didn't anyone ever tell you not to go with strange men?” He had more questions than he knew he should ask.  
   
"I'm not sure what that gesture is supposed to mean, but I'm sure we can work something out. I'm tired and I just don’t feel like doing anything. I promise, I'll make it up to you in the morning."  
   
Jack was stunned. Dean thought that Jack had brought him home for something nefarious. Worse than that, he thought Jack only was being nice to him because he wanted to fuck him. What kind of life did this poor kid have? How many perverts had preyed on him? Jack wanted to wring every one of their goddamn necks. No one should be that calm about offering up their body for the promise of a warm place to sleep.  
   
"Let's make one thing clear, I was _not_ implying that I was expecting anything from you. That place across the hall is not safe and it's freezing over there." Jack tried to keep his voice calm. He didn't want Dean to think the anger he felt was directed at him. He sat in the recliner so there was little doubt that he wasn't trying to get closer to Dean and have his _wicked way_ with him.  
   
"Okay, I got it; you're just a nice guy." Dean sounded doubtful.  
   
"I know you have no reason to believe anything I say. Hell, I wouldn't believe me either. I'm Jack O'Neil and I’ll be fifty soon. I'm retired, Air Force. I'm divorced. I work around the block at the Silver Spoons and Copper Plates. Anything else you want to know?" Jack asked him.  
   
"What made that place so unsafe?" Dean asked.  
   
"They made a very bad home drug lab. The cops said we were all lucky they didn't blow up the buildings. They had even talked about making me vacate my place for a bit. I can't believe Ralphie rented you that place. I always knew he was a sleazeball, but this is beyond greedy," Jack fumed.  
   
"Yeah, about that..." Dean trailed off.  
   
"Let me guess; you were going to squat in there?" Jack's opinion of Dean’s life dropped another few feet in his opinion.  
   
"Yeah, Dad had to rush out for a job. He heard about the place across the hall. Word was that no one was going to poke their nose in to check on things until after the holidays. I just needed a couple of days to get my strength back. After that, I was going meet up with him," Dean explained.  
   
"A job huh? What exactly do you two do?" Jack had visions of a father and son pickpocket team. If they were doing something that netted a better profit, Dean would be in a better room. Hell, the cheapest nastiest motel room would've been better than what was across the hall. Who leaves their kid behind looking like seven kinds of shit in a place that looked like that? He couldn't think of anything that would make him leave his kid alone in a place that would make him even sicker.  
   
"You wouldn't believe me if I told you."  
   
Jack swallowed every smart ass comment he had about what he thought about that. He reminded himself he was trying to earn Dean's trust. "I've seen some crazy shit as well." Jack countered.  
   
"Really?" Dean sounded doubtful.  
   
"Yeah, I would tell you but it's all very classified," Jack smirked.  
   
"Classified? That's a new one. You're telling me the Air Force is into crazy shit?" Dean laughed at the idea.  
   
"What part of the word _classified_ is giving you trouble?"  
   
"I bet my stories could beat yours. It's too bad you'd never believe me." Dean yawned.  
   
"Why don't we discuss this in the morning?" Jack was surprised Dean was still awake enough to have a conversation. He realized that Dean must be trying to stay awake until he'd had gone to bed. He felt even worse for the kid. He quickly said,“Goodnight,” and locked up, before heading to his own room.  
   
Jack got ready for bed as quietly as he could; hoping Dean would be able to have a good night’s sleep. Jack always was a good judge of character. He knew that under the tough guy act Dean was a good guy. He just wished that he could think of a way to help him. It still ruffled Jack to think that Dean thought he was only being nice to him so he could fuck him. As bad as that was, to hear Dean talking about giving him a discount made him feel even shittier. He didn't want to think about how many times people were nice to him so they could get a _friendly discount _.__  
   
Jack wondered what he could do to help. He doubted slipping him cash would count. With his luck, Dean would just tally up the amounts and keep a mental list of all the _favors_ he'd wind up owing Jack. That was something he'd rather not deal with. He had an irrational urge to find everyone that had taken advantage of the kid and beat them to a bloody pulp.  
   
He was no closer to an answer when the sun rose the next morning. All of the suggestions his wife would've given him not so long ago he dismissed. Times like this it would've been nice to have a voice of reason that he could trust. The only voice he was able to listen to this morning was the disc jockey on the early morning show. He'd confirmed what Jack already knew, that the storm was as bad as he'd feared. There were power outages all over town. They weren't sure if the snowplows would be able to clear the streets anytime soon. Anytime a storm rolled in fast like that, it took a while for the town to get back on its normal schedule. Last year was the first winter Jack had lived here and it shocked him every time it happened. He'd grown up in Minnesota and had never seen such chaos after a snowstorm as he had last year.  
   
He grabbed his wallet and keys off of his dresser, before he made his way back to the living room. He wasn't surprised to see Dean's eyes pop open the moment Jack opened his bedroom door. He doubted the kid got any sleep. He almost felt bad for dragging him home. He would've felt worse if he'd gotten sick, staying across the hall while Jack slept in his warm bed.  
   
"How are your legs?" Jack asked him.  
   
"You need them for something?" Dean asked with a wink.  
   
"Yup, I need to go check on things at Spoons and I was thinking about asking you to help," Jack explained.  
   
"I'm not sure how much help I'll be," Dean mumbled as he leveraged himself off the couch. It took all of Jack's self-control not to rush over to help him. He never was one to sit around and ignore someone, who needed help. He reminded himself that he was trying to earn Dean's trust and he doubted treating him like he was made of glass would do that.  
   
He drew the line of not helping when he saw how the kid was dressed as he walked towards the door. He grabbed one of his older scarves and a pair of gloves and waited for Dean to put them on. His fingers itched to dress Dean in one of his older winter jackets. The leather one he had on didn't look warm enough.  
   
"It's freezing out. Trust me, you'll be glad you wore them," Jack's tone made it clear he was not going to argue the point. He tried not to smile as he watched Dean wrap the old scarf around his neck, before trying the gloves on.  
   
The frigid air made conversation next to impossible. Jack watched Dean as they made their way down the snowy street. He was trying to gauge how badly he was hurt. It was impossible to tell with the snow and icy wind, but he still tried. He felt guilty, making Dean leave the house at all in the cold weather. He would've run to get them food if he thought Dean would still be there when he returned.  
   
He doubted he would be. Dean would no doubt have hotwired a car and tried to meet up with his father. He still had no idea what they did for a living, but he was damn sure it was too strenuous for Dean at the moment. Jack had no proof that it was his plan, but he still felt confident he was right.  
   
He was glad when he saw the old sign looming ahead. He was ready for a hot cup of coffee and a real meal. He wondered when Dean eaten last. Had they just grabbed burgers from a drive through? Did his father normally let him help with whatever they did when he was only a little hurt? How hurt did he have to be, to be left off the job? He had too many questions running through his head and he wasn't sure he was going to like the answers when he finally got them.  
   
"Silver plates and Cooper Spoons?" Dean asked as he waited for Jack to unlock the door.  
   
"Don't ask; it's always been named that. Most people just shorten it to Spoons," Jack called back to him as he made his way behind the counter. "Have a seat anywhere." He quickly put a pot of coffee on for them. He looked over and saw Dean, sitting at the end of the counter, eyeing a pie that was sitting on the glass-domed dessert stand.  
   
Normally, he would've been annoyed to find they'd been left out. Today, he was willing to let it slide when he saw how Dean looking at it. Jack guessed he liked pie. He tossed a silverware roll up on the counter. "There's cherry under that one and apple at the other end. Help yourself, but save some room for a real food."  
   
"I thought you were coming in to check on things," Dean said, eying him suspiciously as he reached for the pie.  
   
"I did and for walking down here in knee deep snow we deserve a little hot food."Jack wondered if burgers and fries would be better than steak and eggs. He would ask Dean, but he was afraid Dean would think it was something he'd have to pay back.  
   
Jack decided burgers would be a better option. He quickly put together a couple of plates, while keeping an eye on Dean in the dining room. He was glad Dean's curiosity had won out over the day old pie. He looked at the framed news clippings that were hanging around the dining room while he ate some pie. He stopped to read each one of them. It gave Jack enough time to cook a couple of basic burgers and grab a few small bags of chips that they normal had on hand for the kids' menu.  
   
Dean made his way over to the booth where Jack had a plate waiting for him.  
   
"Thanks, man, this looks great." Dean had dug into his food like he was starving. For all Jack knew he was.  
   
"What made you decide to buy this place? Why did you keep the name?" Dean asked him.  
   
"The name is easy; it's never been changed since they opened the doors in eighteen ninety-seven. Who am I to screw with that? As far as buying it, did you ever just want a fresh start?" Jack still had trouble talking about what had led him to retire.  
   
"I can't really say I have. My future's been set since I was four years old." Dean shrugged his shoulders.  
   
"You never did explain what you and your dad did. Is it just the two of you?" Jack said.  
   
"Yeah, it used to be me, him, and my younger brother. Sammy got into college. He got a full ride to Standford. After he left, I couldn't leave Dad as well. We've been working together for as long as I can remember."  
   
Jack heard the pride in his voice. It made him wonder how the younger one managed that and why Dean looked like he was half a step away from living under a bridge.  
   
"That's great that Sammy went to school. Did you want to go as well?" Jack really wanted to understand what made Dean tick.  
   
"Maybe, when I was little. I used to want to be a fireman. What little kid doesn't want to be one? The year I turned sixteen, I realized that I didn't need a diploma to keep the family business running." Dean popped the last of his burger in his mouth and Jack wished he made the kid more than one.  
   
"I wanted to be a pilot. That's why I joined the Air Force." Jack cut what was left of his burger in half and placed it on Dean's plate.  
   
"Thanks, why'd you retire?" Dean grabbed the burger and ate it.  
   
"If we're being honest, it was the second time I walked away. The first was after my son died. The second time, I was recruited because it was a suicide mission. I guess everyone figured out I had given up. I'm not as bitter about that as I think I should be. The part that pissed me off was that I wasn't alone. They were young and deserved a better future. Hell, they deserved a future.  I know they signed on just like I did, but they weren't the only ones with us. We had a civilian consultant with us. We were in a very remote part of the world and this guy knew his way around their language and customs. He opted to stay behind and learn what he could about them," Jack stopped there and grabbed their mugs to get them each a refill.  
   
"I'm sorry. That’s just harsh. I've been feeling like all kinds of shit because Sammy went off to school. I know where he is. I could go see his geeky ass anytime I can make the excuse to be in that part of the country. It would be easier if he and Dad hadn't fought about his leaving."  
   
"He wasn't proud of Sammy's accomplishment?" Jack could only imagine how proud he would've been of Charlie if he'd managed that.  
   
"He didn't think that college was important in our line of work. He's right; I've been able to pull off damn near anything. In this line of work, attitude and a quick wit beats a degree," Dean explained.  
   
"Yeah, about that; you never explained _what_ you do," Jack reminded him.  
   
"I still don't think you'll believe me. But I have to say this has been nice. When you decide that I'm crazy, can I at least grab my bag from your place?" Dean asked.  
   
Jack wondered how many people had just kicked him out or worse. The list of people he wanted to beat to a bloody pulp was growing by the minute.  
   
"I’ll keep an open mind no matter you tell me. I promise you, I’ll make sure you get your stuff." Jack thought it had been a good sign that Dean had left it at his place. He hadn't wanted to put too much stock in it and tried to convince himself that the kid was hurt so it was less to carry in the snow.  
   
"When I was four years old, my mom was killed. We were all asleep and a demon tried to do something to Sammy. As far as we can figure, Mom interrupted it and it killed her. Dad bundled us into the car and got us the hell outta there. We've been fighting every evil thing we come across, while hunting down legit leads to find the demon that killed Mom," Dean explained.  
   
"What kind of evil things?" Jack asked him.  
   
"You want a list to mock me with?"  
   
"No, I was just wondering what had to go up against. How’d you win? You must've won because you're here.  
   
"You want a crash course on monster hunting?" Dean laughed at the thought.  
   
"Why not? When do you have to leave? You need a little time to heal, before you meet up with your dad. I was thinking you could stay with me. You can help out here and learn how to do everything and in return, you can teach me about what it is you do," Jack offered.  
   
"You want to be a hunter?"  
   
"I like knowing about what's going on out there and how to deal with it." Jack thought it would be interesting to learn about what Dean had seen. He'd seen enough crazy over the last couple of years that he really did believe him. He thought that he and Dean could learn a lot from each other. He was looking forward to learning everything Dean had to teach him.  He realized that this time his retirement was actually going to stick. This was going to be the most fun he'd had in a long time.


End file.
